


Ineffable Holiday: Snow

by livingforazirowley



Series: Ineffable Holiday 2019 [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley is a Softie, IneffableHoliday, M/M, Prompt Fic, Snow, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:48:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21630415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingforazirowley/pseuds/livingforazirowley
Summary: This is Day 1 of Ineffable Holiday prompt list by YamiKakyuu (@soft-angel-aziraphale on Tumblr), snow. It's a soft, tiny ficlet where Crowley is in love with the world.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Holiday 2019 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563967
Comments: 7
Kudos: 38
Collections: An Ineffable Holiday 2019





	Ineffable Holiday: Snow

“Drink this, Crowley. It will make you feel better” Aziraphale handed the hot coffee to Crowley. He took it and put his frozen fingers around the paper cup, hissing slightly at the prickly sensation it produced in his fingers. He could see the steam come out the small hole in the lid, both an invitation and a warning. He took a tentative sip as the angel paid for their drinks.

It was the middle of December, the sun had already set and the cold air suggested it was best to remain next to a fireplace until further notice. But Aziraphale had insisted on visiting a small farmers market that had been set up a few blocks away from the bookshop. It would be a nice opportunity to help the small businesses in their fight against big corporations, he had said. Of course, Crowley had thought.

“Thank you for agreeing to come with me, Crowley. I know this is not your ideal weather,” Aziraphale smiled timidly before continuing to explore the small stalls. Crowley followed him with his eyes momentarily before he started walking. He really hoped they would find a nice wine to take home and share. _Home_ , he repeated to himself, surprised at how quickly that term had substituted ‘Aziraphale’s bookshop’.

They aimlessly paced the market, eyeing fresh vegetables here, handcrafted Christmas ornaments there, dodging between the families and friends but never leaving each other’s sides. They talked about this or other nonsense and admired many of the products on display. Despite the cold, Crowley was having a pleasant time and he could tell Aziraphale was utterly delighted. He couldn’t help but smile.

They had bought a couple of bottles of ecologic wine, as well as some handmade Turkish delight. Crowley was about to lead the way home when something tiny and cold landed on his nose. He stopped walking and looked up, interrupting Aziraphale’s story about the first time he had tried something spiced with cinnamon.

A gentle swirl of small snowflakes was lazily descending to the ground, drawing a mesmerising pattern. Some of them ended on Crowley’s face, quickly turning into droplets, the cold on his skin grounding him to reality despite the hypnotising dance. He felt an arm slip around his and gently tug.

“Perhaps we should go home, dear. We wouldn’t like to get caught in it,” Crowley stayed where he was, savouring the moment. Cold had never been his friend, but the beauty the world had to offer was. And right there, right now, with an angel perched on his arm, the gentle snowflakes, the sound of kids excited with the first snowfall, the distant smell of roasted chestnuts and the certainty of a warm home waiting for them… Now, that was beauty.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to @soft-angel-aziraphale for the prompt list (#IneffableHoliday). This is a first for me and, given my consistency when posting, I have set a realistic goal: posting on Saturdays and Sundays. I hope I will be able to do a little bit more than that, but I’d rather be cautious.
> 
> As always, I’m not a native speaker nor do I live in the UK (it doesn't even snow where I'm from) so there might be mistakes I hope you won’t notice. Also, this explains why Crowley smells roasted chestnuts at the market: it is what my home town smells like during the Holidays.
> 
> Lastly, comments are most welcomed. You can reach out to me on Twitter and Tumbler (@SouthOmens), where I will be posting as I publish new fics, reblogging amazing Good Omens art and occasionally screaming into the wonderful void the Internet is.


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